


Home Sounds Good

by ThwipBit (charlion_em)



Category: Ultimate Spider-Man (Cartoon)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluffier Than Cotton Candy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 22:10:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11322708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlion_em/pseuds/ThwipBit
Summary: Home is where you can drink milk from the carton - and also where you keep your pants.





	Home Sounds Good

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MsNeedSleep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsNeedSleep/gifts).



> For @thefangirlhasarrive on tumblr who won the 2nd place prize from the giveaway <3 This was such a cute prompt and I had a blast writing it! This was such a treat to write. I forgot how much fun it is to write these two!

It was all very domestic, and with sudden clarity Harry realized that was not a bad thing. For as much as he loved Peter, there was always a part of him which was afraid of continuing the cycle of dysfunction he came from, something which always held him back from asking for _more_. Though Norman was far removed from his life now, a part of Harry worried he would someday begin to mirror his father’s behavior.

Yet here they were, together for nearly a year and not a sign of slipping into the abusive behavior he grew up with; in fact, it was the exact opposite, and he thanked his lucky stars for the sunshine Peter always brought into his life.

From his seat at the dining table he watched as his boyfriend fumbled with the lid of the milk carton then tipped it to his mouth. Harry half expected the contents to drip down Peter’s chin, but the other man had plenty of practice with the savage act. He didn’t comment, and hid his fond smile behind his coffee mug.

“You’re out of milk,” Peter said. He tossed the now empty carton into the sink and sauntered over to Harry.

Harry hummed, mentally correcting ‘ _you're_ ’ to _*we're_ ’. “Maybe I should start buying a whole gallon instead of a half gallon? Seeing as I’m always buying milk.”

Peter had the sense to duck his head. “Sorry Harry. I guess I’ve been spending more time here than at home. I’ll pick you up another half gallon after work, okay? Don’t worry about it.”

“Just get a _gallon_.” Harry grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl in the middle of his table. “You’ll drink it anyway- you practically live here.”

“No I don't.”

Harry eyed Peter’s coat hanging by the door. It was July, and the garment had been there for months. “You can move in, I don't know why you keep your apartment.” It was more of a flat than apartment, seeing as how the living room doubled as the bedroom- but Harry kept the comment to himself.

With a shrug, Peter walked around the table to grab his bag. He turned to Harry, who was still in his boxers. “If you don’t get going you’ll be late again.”

Harry waved him off, “I’ll be fine, pros of being the boss. I do have a later meeting, so I won’t be home until around 7.”

“Oh…” Peter paused with his hand on the door. “I'll see you tomorrow then.”

He left before Harry could offer a late dinner. “Oh, Peter.” He shot of a text instead. Peter was right, he should get dressed and get to work.

Now that he was looking, he found a lot of Peter’s belongings intertwined with his own. It must have happened slowly, because without specifically looking everything felt in place.

They _belonged_.

Peter’s toothbrush wasn’t surprising, but his favorite facial lotion was. How long had it been on his bathroom counter?

Extra clothes were normal to keep at your boyfriend's place, he probably had a spare outfit at Peter’s. But two whole drawers were full of Peter’s clothes. And the suit Peter wore to that event at the museum three months ago hung next to his in the closet.

If he wasn't already running late, Harry would have continued to search for Peter’s things. Seeing as he would probably be alone for the evening, he would have plenty of time to look later. But what would he do with this new information?

* * *

 

Harry groaned as he pushed into his condo. Meetings drained his energy, and his usual mood charger had declined his invitation for a late dinner. The silence of his home was unnerving, and it was now Harry realized how long it had been since he spent a whole evening alone. Without Peter’s constant chatting or his tinkering on some new project, the condo felt empty and too large for just one person.

He decided dinner would just be a quick sandwich, nothing fancy or requiring effort. All he wanted to do was ease his growing hunger and fall onto his couch and watch reruns on t.v.. He could go over the meeting reports tomorrow when he had Peter to distract him from their monotony.

He opened the fridge to grab the lunch meat and paused, hand outstretched. On the middle shelf sat two fresh half-gallons of milk.

“Peter,” Harry sighed. He closed the door without gathering the ingredients for a sandwich. Instead, he pulled out his phone to text a quick _'really_?’ to Peter. Quickly followed with _'it is cheaper to just get a gallon.’_

A few seconds later Peter’s reply came through. _'it’s called compromise.’_

“OH MY GOD PETER,” Harry shouted at the ceiling. He growled, sending off another text as he began to pace. _'just come home, pete.’_

_’' am at home’_

Harry stopped in his tracks. Home. Despite his hangups, at some point he had started to consider this _their_ home. And he thought Peter had as well. Especially given the time he spent there and the amount of belongings which were woven among his own.

_Peter’s belongings._

Harry stomped into the bedroom, easily re-locating the items he’d found that morning. He aimed his phone at them, snapping quick photos of each location Peter had claimed. Peter’s clothes in the drawers and in the closet, the various hygiene items in the bathroom, and the old camera bag tossed on the chair next to the bed.

He searched the condo, snapping photos of every last bit of the evidence Peter lived there. It would look so bare without Peter’s things.

He text the photos to Peter one by one with no words of explanation. Just a slew of photos of random items which held no meaning by themselves, but spoke volumes in the context of their conversation.

After those photos were sent, Harry turned the camera around to his face. He easily morphed his face into the saddest pout he could muster.

Harry hit send with less force than he had with the other photos and fell face-first onto the couch, tossing his phone onto the floor nearby. How Peter reacted would probably determine the direction their relationship would take. Would they continue as they had been- in a limbo between casual and serious commitment- or would they push forward, take the next step?  
Not long after he had pushed his face into the decorative pillows, the sound of keys jiggling in the door broke the silence of the condo. Peter was the only other person to have a key. Harry rolled over enough to see the door, wondering just how Peter made it across town so quickly. It _was_ fast, even for him.

Peter entered quickly and shut and locked the door, biting his lip when he turned and saw Harry on the couch. For what it was worth, Harry was proud he was able to hold back a burst of laughter when he took in Peter’s appearance.

He pushed himself up so he was sitting on the couch. “What _are_  you wearing?” Harry couldn't keep the mirth from his voice.

Peter picked at his neon yellow shirt with ‘swag’ scrawled diagonally across the chest. It clashed horribly with the dark purple and orange polka dot swim trunks and snow boots. “The shirt was Sam’s ‘gift’,” he made air quotes, “during one of his ‘get Peter to not dress like a nerd’ ‘projects’.”

Ah, Harry remembered those ‘projects’- which usually backfired since Peter managed to make anything look nerdy just by wearing it. The ‘swag’ shirt didn’t seem to be any different.

“So, uhhhh.” He shrugged, looking sheepish as he looked anywhere but Harry. “My clothes got sorta disintegrated along with my backpack… and uh, I guess my all good clothes are here?”

Harry dropped his head into his hands, knowing better than to ask _why_ Peter’s backpack was disintegrated. Peter always gave too many details, he preferred the watered down version of Spider-Man’s exploits that the news gave.

Peter’s weight dipped the couch cushion. “And, _you're_ here too. I'm saving that picture as your caller ID, by the way.”

Harry sighed. “And you've had a key for like, ever.” He pulled his head back up, meeting Peter’s gaze. “Why are you so afraid of moving in?”

“I guess I already have, huh?”

“Peter.”

“Okay. Okay.” Peter bit his lip and scooted closer to Harry. Whenever they had a serious discussion, Peter snuggled as close as possible to Harry. “I guess, I don't know, it's like I'd be admitting I can't do it myself? I'll never be able to afford a place like this. I don't want to be a kept man.”

“What's mine is yours, Peter.” Harry wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “You put your life on the line for this city everyday, you deserve to be happy. So what if you don’t make a lot of money? You're worth isn't based on that.”

They stayed pressed together for a few moments before Harry turned and kissed Peter’s forehead. “If your only objection is the price of this place, we can shop around for something else.”

Peter shook his head and buried his face in the crook of Harry’s neck. “Are we ready? Like. It's a big step, right?”

Harry held him tight. “I guess we decided we were ready a while ago, hmm?” Probably around the time Peter kept the spare key after Harry got back from a business trip.

“Yea, I guess my jeans knew better than I did.”

“Speaking of…” Harry pulled back and eyed Peter’s ensemble. “How about you change and we'll go out to dinner to celebrate officially realizing you moved in?”

Peter’s smile was bright as he flipped over the back of the couch. “How about pajamas and we order take out? Stay home?”

“Home sounds good.”

And they were finally home together.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
